


Trophy

by edensgay (buckybarfs)



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, Gen, Infidelity, M/M, Neglectful relationship, Other, Past Infidelity, References to Sex, You're married to John, You're not the deputy, gender neutral reader, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 07:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15020162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybarfs/pseuds/edensgay
Summary: You stay with your husband through all his ups and downs, looking the other way, until one day you can’t.





	Trophy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! This was my second try at writing in this fandom, so it's a little short and a little sloppy. I'm working on importing all my works from tumblr onto here.

You’d been married after only a few short months. You were finishing up your last year of PA school when you met him at a bar. The two of you had eye fucked each other across the bar for an hour before your friend finally took notice. 

“That’s John Duncan. He’s one of the best lawyers in the state right now, heading towards being one of the highest paid too.” Your friend has whispered in your ear. Her fingers pinching the small black straw in her drink as she checked him out.

You’d been toying with the idea of taking him home all night, that right there solidified it for you. You’d approached him with ease, whispering in his ear all the filthy things you wanted to do to him as the two of you danced close. 

On the way to your home you’d discussed your favorite bars and clubs, both of you agreeing how much you loved the Atlanta nightlife. Back at your home when he asked if he could press the blade of his engraved pocket knife into the soft skin on your ribs you hadn’t said no. You weren’t sure what had possessed you to allow this strange man to cut you. When you saw the gleam in his eyes as he knife marred your delicate skin you felt you’d made the right choice.

Besides, his sin looked so pretty etched into his skin.

When you’d woken up in the middle of the night to see him still there you’d been ecstatic, less so when you saw the white lines on your bedside table. You’d ignored it, rationalizing that he had a stressful job and he was young. Having a little bit of fun every once and awhile wasn’t a bad thing. Besides, you’d snagged John Duncan, one of the most eligible bachelors in the city.

A month after your first meeting you’d begun officially dating. You spent your work days giggling with your coworkers about his prowess in bed and the expensive wines he’d buy on your dates. 

You’d been so proud to be the one to finally take the notorious rich playboy off the market. So proud that you managed to ignore the smug stares other women gave you when you walked in on his arm and the winces of some men as they gave you sad eyes. So, so proud that you ignored the pink and red stains on some of his button ups. So fucking proud that you ignored how often he left on ‘business trips’ only to come home with a sore ass.

You’d been married six months later in a too long, too expensive ceremony. Your seven month whirlwind romance had led you to this day. Your entire family was there as were all your friends and coworkers. His guests only included his bosses and one or two people he considered friends. 

That had been the first time you realized how alone he was in the world. Your guest list had over two hundred people on it, only four of them were people from his life. 

The women and the drugs made even more sense now, and to your own surprise you didn’t care. John may have had his problems, but he needed someone to actually be there for him. In the mornings the drugs and the one night stands wouldn’t be there to wash his scarred back in the shower. Late at night they wouldn’t be there to wrap their arms around his shaking form as the night terrors kept him from a goodnight’s sleep.

You were his partner and that was all that mattered. You were the only one who wore the ring and had the title.

After the reception the two of you snuggled up in the back of a limo, heading towards the airport that would take you to Bali. You cupped his face as you sat on his lap and peppered him with kisses. You needed to let him know how loved he was.

You had wanted to go to Uluwatu, wanting to spend a few days on the beach with a mimosa in hand as the two of you bathed in the sun. Then travel to Ubud where the two of you would make love suspended above the jungle for the rest of your honeymoon. 

You’d settled for a spending half of it in Uluwatu, the other half being spent in Seminyak. It was there that you’d learned drugs weren’t just fun for John. They were a lifestyle. 

You’d managed to ignore it when you’d emerged from the bathroom in your honeymoon suite only to find your new husband in bed with two women. When he’d looked up at you, meeting your eyes as he bumped another line off the smooth curve of one of their pert asses you’d simply clenched your jaw and left the room. 

You’d sat on the hotel restaurants balcony sipping your black french pressed coffee until you deemed it safe to go back to your room. You’d felt no guilt over ordering the overpriced coffee and charging it to the room he paid for.

When you’d come home after the honeymoon it was to a new home, he’d taken the liberty of selling your shared condo and replacing it with a large home. The furnishings were imported as was the new car in the garage. In a way it seemed like he was apologizing and with that apology you thought it would stop.

It didn’t.

You always knew when it happened, because there would be a new present on the bed when you came home. A vase of roses would sit on the beside table, without a note.

Your coworkers ignored how your squeals about John tapered off to nothing. They assumed that the honeymoon phase had worn off. It had, it definitely had. If only they knew to what extent.

It became second nature for you to ignore the two, sometimes more, outlines in the sheets as you made your way to your closet. You’d sit on the large ottoman in the middle of the lavish space and stare at your walls of apologies. You’d unzip the jeans you were wearing and step out of them as you pulled a silk number off the hanger. You’d slip on a pair of red bottomed shoes and finish with a accessory that dripped from your throat. 

You’d earned it after a particularly large exploit, one that had left your house trashed for a week. The housekeepers had looked at you with pity as they cleaned up the red solo cups and wiped the counter tops down, knowing that the powder on the counter wasn’t because you’d baked. You’d never baked a day in your life. They’d whispered when they found the panties in the couch, not your size nor your color.

You’d leave the closet wearing nothing but apologies, and head to your favorite retreat.

The rooftop piano bar had become your sanctuary in the years after your marriage. The waiters looked at you with pity as they refilled your glass. You didn’t care, your eyes never left the pianist and his singing companion. 

People would sometimes come up to you, ask you why you were alone and offer you companionship for the night. You ignored them, despite everything you still only had eyes for John. 

His project of redeveloping his hometown was taking over his life. Initially it had excited you. The fact that he was doing something good had given you false hope. You’d incorrectly assumed that when the job took up so much of his time that the affairs and the drugs would stop. You’d hoped that it would only be you and him. 

Instead you’d been pushed out. 

His soft cries in the middle of the night were the only reason that you stayed. He needed you, more than he ever wanted you to know. While he never said it out loud you knew that you were the best thing that had happened to him in a long time.

Then his brothers came back into his life.

Joseph Seed walked right into your life without warning. Your live in housekeeper had answered the door, protesting loudly as the man crossed the threshold of your life without a word. Jacob had trailed in behind him, his eyes flitting around as he checked the entrances and exits.

You’d been sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping your coffee when you heard the commotion. Your footsteps echoed through the large entry way as you approached the strange men. They hadn’t been strange men for long, one look into their intense blue eyes and you’d known who they were.

John had told you about them, after sweating himself awake from a restless sleep he’d confide in you about his life before this. His life with his brothers, a life he barely remembered. 

You’d simply stared at them, your mouth popping open as you took in the two men. They didn’t fit with the rest of your home, they stuck out like sore thumbs. Proving how different their lives had been. 

Jacob looked like he’d just been pulled out of the gutter, which you later learned might be true. Joseph looked rough, but certain. 

“You’re really here.” John had said softly, his eyes huge as he stared down at his brothers.

Your eyes traveled upwards as his voice carried down to where you stood. He was standing on the landing, both of his hands gripping the railing so hard his knuckles were white. He looked content, peaceful even.

After that he’d sold your house. You hadn’t complained, you’d moved quietly. Montana didn’t seem so bad. When you were younger you and some friends had gotten an airbnb on a farm in Montana. You’d fallen in love with the clean air. The ranch he’d bought was cute, much too big for just the two of you. 

John had never wanted kids, he’d never spoken about them. You knew it was because of his upbringing, he was terrified of repeating the cycle. Since Joseph had come into his life he threw the idea around more.

Suddenly, children were on the forefront of his mind. He’d bring them up all the time, telling you that it was God’s will that you have children to bring to the Gates of Eden with you. During sex he’d whisper to you about how badly he wanted you to raise his children. 

The drugs had been abandoned the minute Joseph had stepped into his life. You didn’t quite get along with his siblings but you couldn’t help the gratitude that swelled in your chest when your bedside table remained clean. 

The other people slowly trickled out, the last to go was a woman named Holly. After that he became a perfect, loving husband. He was attentive when he needed to be and he drew you baths when you were tired from work.

Your life together had been plagued by sin for so long that you welcomed the change. While you didn’t believe in what his brother spewed you believed the look of fulfillment in your husband’s eyes. Finding God was a welcome change. 

Your new coworkers often told you how lucky you were to have such a loving, attentive husband. They’d all squeal when he’d show up randomly to take you to lunch on days he wasn’t busy. They’d complain about their own husbands when he had flowers delivered to your work. 

For years his apologies had been accented with roses, the perfectly wrapped garments and accessories always appeared with roses.

Now he sent you stargazer lilies, because he’d discovered that they were your favorite.

The sudden compassion was enough to make up for everything else. The last few years of your marriage all but forgotten. 

But old habits die hard.

Slowly his brothers consumed his life. Their church taking up all his free time. The flowers slowly stopped coming and the lunches were down to once a month.   
You’d looked the other way for so long that it became second nature. When Eden’s gate moved onto their third Faith you didn’t even blink. You accepted her but refused to get close, soon she would disappoint just like all the others. 

When John came home with blood on his hands and a wild look in his eye you pretended it didn’t happen. 

The guards outside of your ranch all straightened up when you walked by. Though they had never been introduced to you they knew who you were. The expensive apologies that draped over your skin told them who you were. 

When the church became more of a cult you felt a growing unease in the pit of your stomach. It was hard to force a smile when John brought you to see the construction of his new doomsday bunker. 

You could tell John was getting in too deep, you knew all the signs. Which is why when you heard the suppressed shots outside your door and the thumping of bodies you didn’t call for backup. 

When the deputy that had been causing your husband so much grief stepped through the door you didn’t even flinch.

You simply continued sipping your coffee, watching them as they gawked at you. There was a gun on the table in front of you, though you never planned to use it. A long expanse of table kept the two of you away from each other.

You could see on their face as they tried to figure out the best course of action, their eyes flicking to the gun. 

“Sit.” You said, tilting your head towards a chair. 

They nodded slowly, sliding into the seat. Their eyes never left yours, they sat there ready to run. Every muscle in their body was wrought with tension. 

“I’m not going to use this gun.” You announced, your voice calm as you ejected the magazine from the gun and tossed it behind you. 

Their brow furrowed, a look of uncertainty flashed across their face before the covered it up with a stern expression.

“You’re Johns trophy.” They said.

The word should have hurt, but it didn’t. You knew it was true. That was all you were, a trophy. No better than one of the stuffed animals that hung on the walls of the ranch. 

You shrugged, sipping your coffee. 

Your lack of reaction seemed to annoy the deputy, their eyes narrowing as they tried again.

“Why haven’t you called for backup?”

You shook your head and set your mug down. “I want to speak with you.”

“I’m not sorry.” They said and you knew it was true. You knew why they were fighting, you understood it. You understood them.

“I know.” You replied. You stared at your hands for a minute, fiddling with your wedding band before speaking up again. “I love my husband. I’ve been with him through a lot. Eden’s Gate is just another thing for us to get through.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“I want to save my husband.” 

They blinked slowly, trying to figure out your angle. “I don’t understand. Hasn’t John already been saved?” They sneered, making a general motion to where your husband’s sin lay. 

“I want to help you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> PSA: I thrive on feedback.


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